Definition of INSIDIOUS …

I
swore I was through writing about the sad demise of our wonderful
country under Trump and his bunch of Republican sycophants … but I
find I can't do that. I am afraid that his tactics are working…
at least with me. I am exhausted with trying to keep up with his
tricky and sleazy tactics and I just want to hide my head in the sand
like this:

But
I know that I can't do that. I will get no relief and he and his
confidantes will have taken our country even deeper into the swamp of
his making.

I
am petrified and hoping I'm not alone … do you, Blogger friends, have
the same concerns and how do you handle them and still retain your
sanity?

Wednesday, January 23, 2019

...that Entwistle name …

Here
is John Entwistle, and yes he is the son of Bert (our British sailor
from WW II who I mentioned in my last blog entry). As I mentioned
Bert was like a family member to us and he would often mention John
inhis
letters
with our family over the years. He
and Queenie, John's mother, were divorced by then but he remained
close to John.

We
always knew that Bert was musical (he played the trumpet and had a
wonderful singing voice) and Queenie was a piano teacher so I guess
John’s talent came naturally. However
Bert never mentioned that his son was on the road to becoming a rock
star.

Imagine
our surprise in the 60’s when we learned that his son was the bass
guitarist for the rock band “The Who”.

I
never was able to get to England but two of my sisters (and their
spouses) did. They stayed with Bert and his 2nd wife Dora who planned
their itinerary which included a visit and dinner at John’s
mansion. I can’t accurately describe it but the overall impression
that they gave was of a huge stone house with cavernous rooms.

The
diners numbered at least 40 and were seated around an enormous oak
table. John was at the head with his chair turned slightly away from
the table so that he faced a small black and white TV which he
watched for the entire meal. Both couples said that John never uttered
a word to anyone there. However
they did get a handshake when they left and Bert got a bear hug.

Friday, January 18, 2019

40+ years later … a British sailor returns.

In
a recent blog entry I wrote of the British sailors that my family
entertained in WW II. A total of 126 visited during those years and
we enjoyed them all. However, most of them had a very short stay in
Boston (while
waiting for repairs to their ships) and
we never heard from them again. That was not the case with Ron Brown
and Bert Entwistle (the two boys pictured here with me, age 10).

They
were stationed at the naval base for the duration of the war and,
whenever they got leave, they would hop on the train from Boston to
Wellesley Hills, where we lived. They
shared
their lives with us and I remember in particular how Bert loved to
tell us about his infant son John who was born just days before he
was sent overseas.

We
stayed in touch with the two of them for years and in 1976
Bert and his
wife
Dora flew to Massachusetts from England to help my Mother celebrate
her 80th birthday. I hadn’t seen Bert for 32 years and had never
met Dora so you can just imagine the fever pitch of emotions
displayed. It was a glorious reunion and although my mother,
Dora and
Bert
(and even his
son
John) are all gone now the
memory is still with me.

(*
blog alert) If the name Entwistle rings a bell be sure to check out
my next entry … to be posted in 5 days.

Sunday, January 13, 2019

Vegetarian dinner ... or a great side dish

I’m always looking for simple recipes and this one really hit’s the spot. It’s great as a side dish with meats, fish or poultry but can also make a filling and satisfactory lunch without any additions.BROCCOLI SPAGHETTI1 BUNCH of BROCCOLI (separate flowerets and cut the stems into 1” pieces)1 LB. of SPAGHETTI1 stick of BUTTER2 CLOVES of GARLICPARMESAN CHEESEBring 4 quarts of water and 1 tbsp. of salt to a boil. Add the spaghetti … cook 2 minutes. Add the broccoli to spaghetti and cook 8 minutes more.Meanwhile mince the garlic and brown in the melted butter.Drain spaghetti and broccoli and toss well with the garlic-butter mix. Sprinkle with parmesan cheese and serve immediately.ENJOY !!

Tuesday, January 08, 2019

1943 … Paddy, the Welshman, reads the tea leaves

In
1943 I was 10 years old, the youngest of 5 girls and living in
Wellesley Hills, Massachusetts. World War II was in full swing and my
family was doing it's part by entertaining some of the English
sailors who were stationed at the Fargo Naval Base in Boston. They
would come out by train on the weekends and it was not unusual for us
to have 4 or 5 of them at one visit. We loved it ... and them. A
special favorite was Paddy, the Welshman.

It
was also the time of “brown outs” and no lights were allowed to
show at night. Luckily our old Victorian home had an inner hallway
with steps to the 2nd floor. It was completely enclosed so
we'd congregate there nightly to tell tall tales and just generally
chill out. It was a special treat when Paddy was among us. He was a
great story teller and he loved to practice the art of telling our
fortunes using the age-old method of reading tea leaves.

We
would choose our favorite spot on the staircase, fill our teacups to
the brim (making sure that we got a good share of the leaves) and sit
back in anticipation. Then, one by one, as we finished our tea,
we'd hand the cup to Paddy. He'd make a great show of turning the
cup upside down and twirling it around. When he finally looked at
the tea leaves he would express astonishment and wonder at what he
saw there. More often than not it would include a handsome man for
the gals and gobs of money for the men.

There
was a war raging and those boys knew they would be back in the thick
of it soon … but for a short time that was all forgotten as Paddy,
with a bit of blarney and a cupful of tea leaves transported us all
to a magical place filled to the brim with love.

****************************************************************************PS: I don't like that only Google members can post on my blog. If you want to leave a comment feel free to email it to me at snowflakesnew@gmail.com&I will post it.

Thursday, January 03, 2019

1985 . . . TINY TIM Tiptoes thru our small town BIG TOP

Tiny Tim enjoyed international stardom in the 60's after his first big break on the TV show "Rowan and Martin Laugh-in". He was a novelty to say the least but his popularity had dwindled considerably by 1985 so I was surprised to see that he could draw a huge crowd. He was the star attraction of a small time circus being held in my home town of Vass, NC and the "Big Top" nearly burst it's seams when he came on stage strumming his uke and singing his signature rendition of "Tiptoe thru the Tulips"

I only stayed for that one song however since I had to be up by 6AM when my shift began at the emergency room of our local hospital. Little did I know that I would see a far different Tiny Tim then !

The minute I walked into the ER the next morning I could see that everyone was upset. There was Tiny Tim holding a small paper bag and pleading to have the ER Dr. see him "in private". He was refusing to be registered so the Nursing Supervisor had been called and she finally determined that he was carrying a urine sample that he swore he had obtained from a girl in Vass (!). She, according to Tiny Tim, was accusing him of getting her pregnant and he wanted the Dr. to prove her wrong. Remember, this was back in 1985, long before you could get a pregnancy test kit from a drugstore.

The whole scene was getting more and more bizarre and now both the ER Dr. and the Supervisor were telling Tiny Tim to calm down. This just seemed to make him more agitated and he started yelling about "my rights as a citizen" and "people taking advantage of me because I am a star", and it was at this point that a local news photographer arrived.

It didn't take a genius to see that this was all a set-up. Tiny Tim got a big spread in the local paper, as well as those in Raleigh and Fayetteville. The "un-named girl from Vass" conveniently disappeared and Tiny Tim, with a big "gotcha" smile on his face, tiptoed his way out of our lives.